Lust Incarnate
by Writer of Whispers
Summary: In which Maka visits the Black Room, Soul's "little oni" causes trouble, and Soul must make a hard decision... SoulxMaka, rated for language. Disclaimer: no, I don't own Soul Eater. *cries in corner*
1. Chapter 1

Soul tapped the keys experimentally. Was that the right chord? Soul played another bar from the song laid out in front of him, and then he took a pen lying against the score and replaced one note with another. Just a few more bars now…

A shuffle interrupted his thought. Soul turned to glare at his little red nuisance, who had been sitting in the high-backed chair in the corner of the room, looking absolutely bored with his oversized head propped on one hand. At least the imp had been quiet thus far—a rare but unwasted opportunity.

Soul hunched over the piano once more. He wasn't sure quite when he began to travel to the Black Room in his sleep, and he didn't know the last time the imp had shut his mouth long enough to allow Soul to finish more than a few bars at a time. He had been writing this song for a while now, ever since Maka's battle with the Clown and his discovery of her preference for G. Tonight he would finish it.

* * *

Soul woke up at three a.m. with a triumphant grin. He had done it.

Getting up, he stretched and ambled toward the kitchen. He didn't bother to turn on any lights; he knew the path by heart. Opening the fridge, he drank some milk straight from the carton, hoping Maka wouldn't wake up and catch him. Imagine how he jumped when he shut the fridge door and found her standing next to him.

"M-Maka? What's up?" he asked, taking in her drooping eyes and apparent drowsiness. She smiled a tiny smile, and Soul realized she wasn't quite awake yet.

"I thought I heard…" She yawned mid-sentence. "… a piano?"

_Typical Maka_, Soul thought, and he smirked. The expression seemed to perk his partner's interest, and she raised a sleepy eyebrow. Taking her hand in his—how tiny it felt against his larger palm—Soul led her to the living room, and she followed obediently, not awake enough to question his motives. Soul sat on the couch, pulling her down beside him, and patted his lap welcomingly. Maka sighed as she repositioned herself, her head pillowed on his leg. No doubt she was preparing a question. Soul took a moment to wrap her in an afghan, tucking her in to make sure she was warm.

"Now go to sleep," he commanded, trying to look stern. He smiled when she giggled, wiping her eyes with a hand. She looked so damn _cute_ doing that….

"Why am I going to sleep here?" she asked playfully, although she was nodding off already. "You're not planning something, are you?"

"Of course I'm planning something, but you're not going to find out what it is until you go to sleep." Soul made a show of closing his eyes and pretending to snore, and when he snuck a glance to see if she was watching, he saw that she was stubbornly pursing her lips. Then the stubbornness passed, tiredness won, and she fell asleep.

Pleased as he was to have his meister resting on his lap, her face devoid of any stress and relaxed as an infant's, Soul had no trouble joining her. After all, three a.m. is not a cool time to be awake.

* * *

Maka stared at her surroundings: black and white tiles, red velvet curtains, the skipping record player (which, now, had fallen silent). Then she glanced down at herself. Her hair was down, and she was not wearing the black dress she usually wore in the Black Room, but in her simply designed, ice blue nightgown. How had she gotten here? "What's going on…?"

"You're dreaming," Soul explained, appearing suddenly behind her. He was still in his pajamas, too—at least, in his pajama pants, apparently having lost his shirt sometime during the night. Maka blushed slightly, not because she could see his scar or his abs (although the view was excellent, she had to admit), but because she had bought those pants he was wearing the same day she had bought this nightgown. The blue matched exactly.

"Dreaming?" she asked, looking around again, this time noting the rather prominent position of the grand piano and the apparent absence of the red imp, Soul's "little oni."

"Hmm, he must be giving us some privacy," Soul muttered, following her gaze. Then he took both of her hands in his, gently leading her toward the piano. "I wasn't sure this would work, but I needed to show you something. It seems that when our bodies sleep in close proximity, our souls can share a dream. You and Ox could probably figure out the mechanics, but all I'm interested in is the results."

"… you're confusing me, Soul," Maka said, allowing herself to be lowered onto the end of the piano bench. She watched as Soul sat down beside her, sliding back the cover to reveal the smooth ivory keys. As her partner flipped through a scorebook leaning against the piano, Maka realized that Soul looked just as distinguished in his pajama pants as he did in his pinstriped suit. He had that same expression he always wore when sitting at a piano—a mixture of open adulation and guarded respect. He tapped a key once, and Maka recognized it as her key—the note G.

Soul tossed her one of his trademark smirks. "Ready?" She nodded, eager as she always was to hear her partner play, and Soul raised both hands theatrically over the piano keys.

His hands dove into the melody, instantly bringing the huge instrument to life with a lively, haunting, dramatic, dark song—how could she describe it? It was insane, and it resonated within her. It sounded much like his usual improvisation, yet there was something different, something wild and strong and vibrant beneath those chords, something that caused the blood to rise beneath her cheeks. Watching Soul, whose face looked eerily calm in face of this impassioned playing, Maka wondered if he experienced these emotions. Then she smiled; of course he felt this. He had written this piece. How she knew that wasn't important; she needed only to hear it and revel in her partner's talent.

Just then Soul hit G, and held it. Maka could not breath again until he released the key, switching to a melody with an equally quick pace but a mellower tone. Soul glanced at her with a secret smile, and Maka could have laughed—this sudden switch was so much more playful from his usual piano! It reminded her of grass and summer and playing basketball with Black Star and the gang. She could have hummed along, except she was afraid to ruin the perfection of the piece, so she settled for listening, memorizing the sounds.

Again, just as Maka settled into the new melody, Soul used G once more to transition into a new section. His song slowed considerably, and the notes became irresistibly sweet as they hung in the air. He held each key just long enough to allow her to hear all of its beauty, and each note felt, to her, as if it had been drawn from her own heart. This new melody was so peaceful, so saturated with contentment, so directly in contrast with Soul's usual maddened playing, that she had difficulty with the idea that he was the one playing it. What had possessed him to write this?

However Soul had written this, Maka knew it had changed him. When he looked up at her again, his smile looked gentler than she had seen it in a long time. What had gotten into him?

_Oh._ Maka realized two things at once. One, her face was wet with tears. Two, she knew Soul's inspiration. The thing that had gotten into him… was her.

The song ended with a flourish, and the note that hung in the air was so familiar that it made Maka answer Soul's questioning smile with her own. Maka didn't know how long she could have stared at her piano player, her partner and weapon, her best friend, but as Soul slowly bent his face toward hers, she realized that staring might not be what she wanted most to do.

That was when the oni returned.

In a move so unexpected that neither Maka nor Soul could react fast enough to stop him, the oni wrapped his fingers around Maka's waist and lifted her right off the piano bench. Maka screamed instinctively, clawing at the giant fingers grasping her. She stared at the imp, who had—somehow—grown several times larger than his usual self, now taller than Soul when he stood, and significantly wider due to the fact that the imp retained his poorly proportioned body through this sudden, inexplicable expansion.

"Soul, what's happening?!"

"Maka!" Soul yelled back, and she realized he was caught between sitting and standing, straining toward her—but he could not move his hands, which were now shackled to the piano with a pair of blood-red manacles. Maka stared at the manacles, trying to figure out when the hell those got there, anger rising in her like white heat off the Nevada desert. How dare anyone touch _her_ weapon!

Apparently, Soul felt likewise. "Don't you dare touch my tech, you poor excuse for a—what the hell are you doing?!"

Maka felt the oni's fingers suddenly squeezing her torso, his clutch becoming such a choking pressure that she had trouble breathing. "Maka!!"

Then Maka passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the second update! Sorry for last time, folks, there were supposed to be spaces between changes in the POV. So, to make sure that doesn't happen again, I'll be putting a heading on each new section to let you know who's speaking!**

**I tried to keep characters, well, in-character, though it's pretty hard to write as Tsubaki. As for terms, I use meister/technician interchangeably, and the same goes for the red imp/little oni. Oh, and I realize that in the anime the Black Room has red tiles, not white ones, but I liked the white tiles better.**

**Also, thank you for the encouraging review, kamihanazono! I'll keep the updates coming! =)**

**Anyway, read & enjoy!**

* * *

All Maka could make out was the sun, groaning as if in pain, and the moon, drooling blood while grinning psychotically. It took Maka a long moment to realize that they were painted onto a blue ceiling. Where was she?

Sitting up, Maka found herself lying on a four-poster bed with black linens, which sat in the center a black-and-white checked floor. The only other furniture in the room was an old-fashioned lantern on the plain white wall and a black nightstand piled with the many folds of a red dress, complete with a pair of black pumps. Maka eyed the pile warily before standing and walking to the door. The room was perfectly round, almost up to Kidd's standards, and the walls seemed to force Maka's eyes upon the looming black door with its carved intricacies. The only problem with it, Maka thought wryly, was its apparent lack of a doorknob.

Recalling what happened in the Black Room, Maka remembered passing out in the oni's grasp. _Is this connected to the Black Room then?_ Maka wondered, and then she remembered Soul's terrified face as he struggled as the red manacles in his attempt to reach her. _Am I still in his soul...?_

Maka pushed against the door for a full minute before reaching the conclusion that the door was locked—and, from her side, unlockable. Patiently, Maka sat with her back to the door to wait. _I'll save you, Soul. Just you wait for me!_

_

* * *

_"Hya-HOO! Black Star has arrived!"

"Oh, Tsubaki, thank goodness!"

Black Star watched as Soul and Maka's furry purple roommate launched herself straight past his god-like self and landed on Tsubaki's shoulder, affectionately rubbing her nose against Tsubaki's cheek. Black Star stared at the spectacle, too horrified that the magical cat had overlooked his divine presence to comprehend the gravity of the situation. Instead, while Tsubaki followed a very worried Blair into the apartment, Black Star settled into the nearest corner to wallow in self-pity… that is, until Tsubaki came back and dragged him into the living room.

Of course, when Blair transformed into her human form, complete with a barely-there nurse costume, Black Star lost so much blood through his nose that he was rendered completely useless. After that, Tsubaki could only sigh and try to cope with the situation by herself.

"Tsubaki, you've got to help me!" Blair begged, taking Tsubaki's hands in her own. "I woke up this morning, and Soul and Maka were just laying there, and they won't wake up even when I cry and beg and scratch! Help me help me help me help me!"

Tsubaki truly pitied her friends, who both looked like they had tangled with a pack of wildcats rather than their own feline roommate. Blair had prepared Tsubaki over the phone, but the weapon still felt a chill in her bones at the sight of two of her dearest friends completely _out_ on the couch. They almost looked as though they were asleep, even sharing an intimate moment with Maka's head resting on Soul's lap, both of them wearing their matching blue pajamas.

Tsubaki could feel it, though: something terrible had happened here. Tsubaki knew neither of her friends would awake anytime soon; they had retreated into their souls. Tsubaki remembered her battle with Masamune. She had studied soul possession extensively in preparation for that fight, and if she was correct…

Tsubaki felt Maka's forehead: damp with sweat, and cold. She nodded to herself.

"Black Star, Blair, I need your help," Tsubaki finally announced. Her meister perked up at the sound of his name, and Blair's eyes grew big in anticipation. "Black Star, please find me a water bottle from the kitchen. We can't let them dehydrate in this state, but we'll have to go about it carefully, understood?" Black Star nodded obediently, as she knew he would. "Thank you. Blair? Could you show me where Maka keeps her books? I'd like to confirm my suspicions before we call Shinigami."

"Suspicions?" Blair asked, her eyebrows crumpled in confusion.

"Yes," Tsubaki said, wiping Soul's white hair out of his face. "I believe Soul Eater has been possessed."

* * *

Soul glared at the little oni, his rage flaring as the piano roared under his fingers. His fingers moved on their own accord as Soul's wrath continued to build behind his crimson eyes.

By "on their own accord," Soul meant he couldn't stop his own fingers from dashing across those ivory keys. He had fought against their movements and lost, and now he could only listen as his hands produced one of the angriest pieces of music he had ever listened to, let alone played. He could only hope the piece would end soon. His fingers were raw from playing so long, turning a swollen red and throbbing with every note.

The oni chuckled quietly from his seat on the table. The red-faced imp had not returned to his previous size, so his hulking figure now made the table look like a stool instead. The oni's finger swung back and forth pedantically—swing, swing, swing—like a director's baton. Soul suspected that the imp was somehow controlling him; who else could control him while he was in his soul? _How, though? I've always been careful to never let him control me...._

"Concerned, Soul Eater?" the oni taunted. "Wasn't it you who asked me to 'lead you?' Anywhere I like?"

"I also said I'd destroy your plans," Soul growled, instantly remembering the conversation. "A promise I intend to keep!"

"How?" The oni's curt question was punctuated with a burst of sound as Soul's fingers slammed against the keyboard. "Are you in any position to threaten me anymore?"

Soul glowered at the imp again, the red manacles weighing heavily on his wrists. He had no idea where those red chains had come from, though he realized that they connected to the legs of the grand piano. Were these magic? He did not have Maka's Soul Perception, but he would bet his money that the Black Blood had something to do with this. _Wait, wouldn't the manacles be black then? Gah, Maka would know better than I would._

As if reading Soul's mind, the imp goaded him, "Eager to find your meister, huh?"

"What. The. Hell. Did. You. Do. With. Her?!"

The oni's insane grin only widened. "Do you really want to see her that badly…?"

"What the hell do you think?!" Soul shouted at the oni, his voice drowning out even the raging piano.

"I see. I'll go fetch her then."

With that, the oni slipped off the table, landing on the checkered tile with a soft thump. As the giant imp lumbered out of the room, a shiver ran down Soul's spine. What had he just done? That had been far too easy. "If you even think of touching my tech, I'll fucking kill you!"

The oni flicked a finger backward at Soul, and the piano player was suddenly hunched over the piano again, although he had made no voluntarily motion. Soul growled in his throat as he heard the oni retreat. "I'll let you see your Maka."

If that imp hurt her, Soul would kill the bastard, no matter the consequence to himself. _Maka... please be okay._

As the weapon impatiently waited for his meister, scarlet blood began to speckle the pale keys as Soul's fingers played mercilessly on.


	3. Chapter 3

**First, a big shout-out to ThisUsernameIsVeryCreative, who posted his review of the first chapter about ten seconds before I posted the second. A big thanks to her as well as Amaya Kuroda, Kamika-Star, and Pink Pagoda, and all of you have added my story as a Favorite or placed it on Story Alert. (You know who you are, and I appreciate it.) Well, to reward my great readers, here's the third installment!**

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* * *

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The footsteps woke Maka. The Shibusen student mentally scolded herself for not being alert in enemy territory, but now she stood to face the door that she had been dozing against. The knock was entirely unnecessary. "Are you dressed yet?"

Maka recognized the voice as the little oni's. "Let me out of here! I need to see Soul!"

"Not yet, eh? Should I come back?"

Maka recognized the threat behind the casual question. How long did he plan to trap her in here? "Let me out!" she demanded, pounding both fists against the door.

"I will take you straight to Soul if you change now. Quickly, please." Maka glared at the door for a moment longer, and she heard an exasperated sigh. "Do you want to see him or not?"

"Yes," Maka said, making her voice small. Still unsure whether or not she was doing the right thing, Maka walked over to the nightstand and, shoving the pumps aside, picked up the dress. It was long, scarlet red, and embroidered with thorny black vines. The short sleeves, as well as the hem and waistline, were done in black lacing. Maka stuck out her tongue at the gothic design, but, she had to admit when she finally pulled it over her head, it did fit her nicely. She silently yanked on the pumps and gently placed her folded nightgown on the edge of the bed. Then she squared her shoulders and faced the door. "Ready," she called, setting her face into a stubborn glare.

The door opened, revealing the oni. Maka was somewhat shocked to see that the imp had not returned to his previous size but retained his freakishly large new body. She was more surprised to see that he stood in utter blackness. Was there even a building out there, a floor?

The oni reached out his arm, bent at the elbow, as if he expected her to take it like a lady takes the arm of a gentlemanly escort. "You may want to hold on," the imp said simply. "If you don't keep a hold of me, you might fall, and it would take me a good while to find you in that darkness.

The imp's words unnerved her, but Maka nonetheless refused to take his word for it. She stepped out, testing the blackness, only to find that where she placed her foot, there wasn't any floor. She gasped and stumbled backward into the room. "What did I say?" the imp asked impatiently.

"You _will_ take me to Soul, won't you?" she asked, still glowering.

"Of course. Your safety is my priority," the oni said with a quick bow, and Maka noted the statement for later investigation. Reluctantly, Maka gripped the imp's huge sleeve in one hand and stepped into the darkness again. The feeling was unsettling, like walking in jelly and expecting to remain upright. Yet she managed to walk a few steps, and the oni slowly led her into the darkness as the door to the small round room closed and vanished.

"What was that place?" Maka asked, her curiosity getting the best of her fear. "Is this part of Soul's, um, soul?"

"Of course. That was _your_ room in his soul," the imp explained, "but it's not connected to the Black Room because Soul was trying to keep the Black Blood away from you."

"I have a room?" Maka asked.

"Well, it's not very large or elaborate since he's trying so hard to keep it isolated. But the bed was comfortable, yes?"

Maka nodded absently, too busy thinking to miss the imp's satisfied grin.

_Soul is trying to keep the Black Blood from infecting me. That sounds like him, but to keep the room isolated? Is that the reason behind it? Why would I have a room in his soul, anyway? This isn't a motel, for Shinigami's sake, it's his soul! Can I even trust what this imp is saying?_

Maka never saw the velvet, but suddenly she and the oni were stepping through the velvet curtains straight into the Black Room. Maka's eyes bulged at the sight that met her.

"Oh my god, Soul!!"

* * *

When his head jerked up up at the sound of Maka's voice, his first reaction was relief that she was actually alive and safe. His second reaction was less appropriate.

Soul blamed his upbringing, but he had to admit: a girl in a ball gown was as hot now as it was back in the sixteenth century. He remembered seeing this particular dress in a store window many, many years ago, and only last weekend, he had chanced upon the memory and wondered how the dress would suit Maka. Well, now he knew; it suited her _well_. The dress didn't do much for Maka's underdeveloped chest (what would?), but it highlighted her tiny waist and her long, long legs—in his opinion, Maka's two greatest assets.

_How can you think that now, here?_ Soul mentally berated himself. _It's your fault she's here in the first place!_ She was terrified—he could see it in her wide, green eyes—but, being Maka, he could also see that she was concerned more for him than for herself. _Idiot. Are you incapable of fearing for yourself?_

Of course, Soul knew that she wouldn't even think about herself. That was one of things that had attracted him in the first place. Well, if she wouldn't worry about herself, he would worry for her, and protect her as best he could. He would figure out a way out of this. He would never let his tech down, not like this!

* * *

Maka could not drag her eyes away from Soul's swollen, blistered fingers. They splattered the piano with drops of blood, continuing to dash agitatedly across the keyboard regardless of their condition. What was going on? Why didn't Soul just _stop_?

Her heart quivered at the sight of her partner, still in his pajama pants but somehow dignified anyway, slaving over that monstrous instrument, which was the only way Maka had ever seen Soul let out all of his true feelings, giving his heart a pure, mad, beautiful voice—it was like watching an artist drown in his own paint.

Soul stared at her from over his shoulder, not paying any attention to his manacled wrists or his bleeding fingers. Maka tried desperately to read his expression, only to be completely lost. At first his face had relaxed, almost seeming relieved, only to be replaced with a tomato-red blush that she could not understand. Then his expression turned into his "worrying face" (Maka had seen that face enough during missions to know it beyond a doubt). This face quickly gave way to another expression, this one complete with bared teeth and dangerously arched eyebrows. Soul was pissed, and Maka had no idea as to _why_.

What she wouldn't give to understand what went on in his head.

Maka took a step toward him, her need to be near her suffering partner greater than any other instinct. Then she felt a pressure on her shoulder, and she looked over to see the oni lay one giant restricting finger on her shoulder. She hesitated, unsure of the oni's weapon but recognizing the warning. Maka returned her gaze to Soul, only to be stunned by how much angrier he looked now. He looked absolutely murderous.

The oni spoke, his mouth so close behind her that his breath ruffled her hair, "Shall we begin?"

With that, Maka's feet began to move, and she had no choice but to follow. Then her hands were captured, swinging about with a will all their own. Soon, Maka was dancing, whirling around the room without ever making a conscious decision as to how her body moved. Under normal circumstances, she would have delighted in how gracefully she twirled. As things stood, she was terrified.

The oni lumbered past her, his shark-teeth spread in a grin, his finger moving like that stick a composer carried. (Maka did not know what it was called, and she hoped she could ask Soul later.) The oni's enormous size dwarfed the table, which he leaned against as he watched his dancer and piano player.

The oni's eyes gleamed, and Maka realized something vitally important.

_He's _toying_ with us!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Yay fourth chapter! Alright, here's the deal, folks: I've decided to make this an eight-part story in honor of Kidd (who, I'm sorry to say, will not make his appearance in this story. Darn). The story was supposed to be nine chapters, but I guess I'll just make the next update extra-long.  
**

**By the way, I used the English translation of Shinigami's "mirror" number, or at least the translation used by the scanlators in Chapter 63.  
**

**A quick thanks to Raven AK and narsaksas, and to all of my second-time reviewers. Thank you so much, guys, I really appreciate your thoughts!**

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* * *

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"It's the Black Blood," Tsubaki announced, closing the book she and Blair had retrieved from Maka's room. "It's formed a presence within his soul and taken possession of him."

"A presence?" Black Star asked from his perch on the arm of Soul and Maka's couch. For a moment, the ninja-in-training forgot that he was dabbing a wet cloth on Soul's forehead, and let the cloth slide halfway down his friend's face as he thought, finger posed dramatically under his chin. Then, noticing the cloth again, Black Star returned to wiping Soul's forehead and asked, "You mean like another soul?"

"Not quite," Tsubaki explained. "It's not a separate soul, at least not yet, but that's why it's possessing Soul. It's trying to break free and create its own corporeal form."

"A body?" Blair asked. The cat had resumed feline form and settled on Maka's chest, intent on keeping her technician friend warm during her mental ordeal.

"Exactly. You see, the Black Blood inside of Soul has already proven to produce a rather large presence, such as in the case of Ragnarok. Even so, it shouldn't be able to break free on its own. An enormous stress must be applied to weaken the host soul. Again, going back to Ragnarok's case, Medusa's abuse weakened Chrona's soul. With Soul, though, I think the cause lies in how vulnerable his soul is."

"Vulnerable?" Blair asked.

Tsubaki thought for a moment. "Well, here's how I think of it. I've never visited Black Star's soul, and he's never visited mine." Black Star spluttered at the sudden comparison, beginning to volunteer to visit her soul when Tsubaki shushed him with a glance. Blair stared at the girl, amazed that the weapon could silence her loud-mouthed meister like that, and Tsubaki smiled a bit to herself. "There's a reason for that. Allowing someone into your soul, even someone close, poses an enormous risk. Even a casual comment from the visitor can cause a change in the soul and damage it. Even so, Soul allows Maka into his soul on an almost regular basis, with practically every resonance and now, apparently, through his dreams."

"What? They were sleeping when they went into his soul?" Blair asked, intrigued.

Tsubaki shook her head lightly. "Well, that's what I think. How else do you explain them laying on the couch in their pajamas? Anyway, Soul is especially susceptible to the Black Blood because of Maka's visits to his soul. It appears his soul is exceptionally vulnerable at the moment— why I'm not sure— so the Black Blood is acting now." Well, Tsubaki had an idea as to why Soul was vulnerable at the moment, but she couldn't be sure....

"I see." Black Star nodded to himself. Then he perked up. "So, if the Black Blood does get its own body, I can just kick its ass, right?"

Tsubaki stared at her tech for a moment before turning away and bursting into exasperated tears. _So straightforward... and dumb..._ "Sure, Black Star, but I'm not sure we want it to go that far…."

Blair suddenly perked her ears. "Hey, Tsubaki, shouldn't you tell Shinigami about this?"

"Oh, yes! Black Star?"

The meister, who had been striking some sort of pose on the arm of the couch, looked over at her and then grinned hugely. It sent a shudder down Tsubaki's spine.

"Umm, could you watch these guys for me while I report to Shinigami, please?"

"Leave it to me!" Black Star half-shouted, throwing her a rather theatrical salute. She smiled, thinking to herself how glad she was that Blair was there, as she walked into the bathroom to look for a mirror.

What Tsubaki did not tell Black Star was the possibility that the presence of the Black Blood could actually devour its host soul, or any other available soul, for that matter. Even if that happened, she and Black Star could do absolutely nothing to stop it, not without weakening Soul even further.

Tsubaki fought back the tears that came unbidden with that thought. No, she had to believe in her friends. Maka would never allow something like this to beat her, and Soul would stand with her until the very end.

Nevertheless, the ring accompanying Shinigami's number sounded more ominous than ever:

_Kill. Kill. Kill. Die. Die. Die._

* * *

Maka felt exhausted. Whether she moved her body, or her body moved itself, her body was still moving. This dance was draining her of strength. As she twirled past Soul for what seemed the thousandth time, she exchanged covert, anxious, frantic looks with him. Her hands had been stained red by now, making her stomach flop to even look at them, but still he played. Soul was fading fast, she knew; his eyes had dimmed, and he no longer struggled feebly against the red chains on his wrists. Maka had to do something before they both ran out of energy.

As she sashayed past the imp once more, Maka glared at the beast. The imp slid his finger back and forth, his eyes and teeth glittering with the light from the room's many candles. The imp seemed to enjoy toying with his dancer and piano player, as if she and Soul had volunteered to perform this private show for him. Anger burned hot in her chest as Maka gritted her teeth.

"What do you want from us?" Maka demanded.

The imp's eyes slid over to focus on her. "That's easy enough. I want out."

"Out?" Maka asked, eyes narrowing.

"Out into the real world, with my own, unshared body," the oni said. His voice seemed to curl menacingly in the air, like snaking trails of invisible smoke.

Soul growled from the piano bench, "I'll never give you my body! I'll never let you out of here!"

Suddenly, the oni's finger stopped moving, and he clicked his fingers on his other hand. Soul's hands slammed against the piano keys, ending the seething song with a sudden attack of sound. Only after his fingers crashed against the keys did Soul let out a cry of pain, and Maka's heart seized, wondering how he had endured it all until now.

Maka suddenly stopped spinning, her body returning to her control, although her feet remained planted firmly on the ground, anchored there by some unseen, unbreakable force.

With an expression colder than ice, the oni slowly stood and walked toward her. Every one of Maka's nerves screamed at her to run, but she found that she could not move, could not even turn away as the oni approached.

"Maka, run!! Get away from him! Maka!!" When she didn't move, she heard Soul switch tactics. "If you touch my tech, you bastard, you won't live long enough to regret it! Get away from her!"

In the background, Maka heard her heart pounding in her chest, heard Soul spluttering threats, thought she heard Black Star talking with Tsubaki… but for a moment, all she focused on was the approaching sound of the oni's ragged breath.

When the imp stopped just two feet from her, he lifted a giant finger and gently touched her forehead. For a long second, Maka stared at him, uncomprehending.

In the next second, the imp had disappeared, leaving Soul standing in front of her in his usual pinstriped suit. The visage was flawless, down to every unkempt white hair, except this wasn't Soul. Soul remained sitting on the piano bench, manacled and pajama-clad. Maka swallowed air; something about this second transformation made her knees weak.

The imp, however, found it hilarious. For a long minute, the Black Room was completely silent except for the imp's raucous rendition of Soul's laugh. Maka could only watch as these loud guffaws subsided into amused chuckles. This counterfeit Soul glanced at his real counterpart, who was straining against the manacles to see what was happening. "Lucky Soul," the oni grunted. Soul's teeth ground together in a grimace.

The Black Room was silent, the air practically soaked with apprehension, for the next few minutes as the oni returned his apprising gaze to Maka.

"All I need is right here," said this Soul-who-was-not Soul.

Maka struggled in vain to back away.

Then the oni leaned in and stole a kiss.

* * *

**Author's Note: Yes, I realize that the imp looking like Soul is not a particularly original idea, and neither is that ending for that matter. BUT! There are original _reasons_ behind these actions! (No, it's not just a dramatic flourish or because I wanted Maka to squirm.) So don't give up on me yet because those reasons will be explained... da da da dum... in the chapters to come! (That, my friends, is a dramatic flourish!)**


	5. Chapter 5

**As always, thank you to my readers and especially my reviewers!**

**To shatteredtomorrow: your review almost had me in tears. I'm so glad that my story could make such an impression, and I truly hope that I can live up to your expectations. (Puppetry, that's the word I was looking for! I wish I had thought of it before I posted the fourth chapter….)**

**To ****: try _reading_ my profile (worthy competition? Bring it). I did try to up the vocabulary a bit this time, since you gave me such a good review, but let me clarify: I'm focusing on this story for its plot, not its grammatical correctness, if you haven't noticed all those darn passive verbs.**

**To everyone else: because this story has only three more chapters, I'm making plans for the next fanfiction project now (probably a few one-shots). I have some ideas already, but if anyone has anything specific that they want me to write, feel free to tell me. Now, on to this super-long chapter!**

* * *

Maka struggled uselessly as cold fingers gripped her chin and colder lips pressed against her own. _No_, she cried in her head, _I was saving it! I was saving this!_

"NO!"

**

* * *

**

Tsubaki had just returned from speaking with Shinigami when she heard the screams. She raced toward the living room, astonished to see both Soul and Maka shrieking their sleep. Black Star cast her a glance that clearly said, "I didn't do it! Help me!" Blair had leaped off Maka, her back arched and hair standing straight up.

Without thinking, Tsubaki transformed, Chain Scythe mode. Black Star caught her mid-air, and they watched as their friends continued to scream. Tsubaki glanced around the room out of instinct; until she could wrap her mind around the situation, the best thing she could do was defend her meister from this unseen threat. Then she could see it.

"Something's coming!" Tsubaki said from inside the scythe.

"Behind the couch!" Black Star affirmed.

Sure enough, behind the couch and more specifically behind Soul, something was flickering into existence. At first it looked like a formless grey fog, but it quickly materialized into a second Soul, wearing a pinstriped suit Tsubaki had never seen before. "The Black Blood," she said, recognizing the awe in her own voice.

Before Tsubaki could say more, this rendition of Soul leaped backward and ran toward the door.

"We can't let him go!" Black Star shouted, throwing Tsubaki. She could feel herself hurtling through the air, but the Black Blood moved with uncanny speed. Tsubaki was jarred as the scythe embedded into the door that the apparition had escaped through.

Black Star raced over, snatching her out of the wood she had been lodged into, but without warning, Tsubaki transformed back into her human form.

"No, Black Star! Soul and Maka need us more! We can chase that _thing_ down later!" Not bothering to see Black Star's reaction (she knew he would be angry, but he would get over it, and she didn't have time for a tantrum right now), Tsubaki rushed back to the couch, where Soul and Maka were now awake and struggling ineffectually to sit up. Tsubaki gripped Maka's shoulders and helped her sit, leaning her against the back of the couch.

Blair sat close by, tail twitching, unsure what to do. "Maka, you okay?" she asked.

The tears she saw forming around Maka's wide-open, terrified eyes stunned Tsubaki. "Maka, what happened? Are you injured?"

Maka didn't even seem to notice Tsubaki or her questions. The girl turned immediately to Soul, grabbing his hands. "Soul! Soul, please answer me!" Soul stared at his hands, not quite hearing his meister's voice until she shook his arms feebly. "Soul, please talk to me!"

"Maka…" Soul raised his gaze to her face. "Maka, I can't feel my hands."

Maka seemed to stop breathing for a moment. "Oh my god…"

"I can't transform into a scythe…"

"Don't think about that now!" Tsubaki ordered, bringing herself to stand over her two friends. "I'm calling Shinigami back. Then Black Star and I will chase after that Black Blood thing, and Blair will take you two to see Miss Nygus. You need—"

Tsubaki stopped midsentence when she realized neither of them was listening. Maka had pressed herself against Soul, crying against his shoulder, while her partner and friend wrapped his arms awkwardly around her, staring over her shoulder at a scene no one else could see.

* * *

Maka chopped another carrot to drop into the stew. _At least everyone had the sense not to tell Papa_, she thought as she recalled her recent visit to Shinigami. _He seemed as clueless as ever. I just don't want him to give Soul any more trouble._

"Dammit," she heard Soul mutter behind her, and she turned. Her partner leaned over the kitchen table, one hand clutching a broken pencil over his notebook. Maka would have smiled if it weren't for the frustrated look on Soul's face. Life had returned to normal for the most part, though she and Soul were temporarily banned from any new missions. Her poor weapon was slowly recovering from the incident in the Black Room, regaining some use of his hands over the past week, but he still had trouble holding anything for a length of time, let alone writing with a pencil. He had yet to transform again.

"If you wait until I'm done here, I'll help. I can write if you dictate," Maka offered.

Soul shifted his glare from his pencil to her. "That's not fair, Maka."

"What's not fair?" she asked, plopping the carrot into the pot on the stove.

"You're already doing all the chores by yourself and…" Soul trailed off, looking down. Maka could sympathize. She remembered the time Arachne's cobwebs had left her paralyzed, and Soul had been the one spoon-feeding her. Now she was returning the favor, and it hurt his pride as much as it had hurt hers before. "Well, you shouldn't have to help me with school, too."

Deliberately brightening up, Maka smiled and pointed her chopping knife at Soul. "Don't worry so much! I'll make you do all the chores for a month when you get better, so you don't have to feel guilty at all."

Soul stared uneasily at the knife. "Uh, Maka, can you not point that thing at me?"

"Oh. Sorry."

A few minutes passed in comfortable silence as Maka finished preparing dinner and, covering the pot with a lid for the final cooking stage, set the table for dinner. With some difficulty, Soul managed to slide his notebook, textbooks, and broken pencil to the other end of the table. Blair had yet to make an appearance that night since the feline stripper-in-the-making had planned to eat out with her "coworkers" that evening. This left Maka and Soul alone for the meal.

"Maka?" Soul asked, staring with distrust at his own bowl of stew. "Can I ask you something?"

Maka crumpled an eyebrow. "Sure. You know you can ask me anything. Is this about the Combat homework?"

"Uh, no…" Soul waited a few more moments, raising a spoon but, when it clattered back onto the tabletop, not picking it up again. "Well, it's about that kiss…."

Maka's face heated up as she remembered. Stalling for time, she picked up his spoon for him, but he laid one of his clumsy hands on top of hers. "Don't. It's not cool to be eating like a frickin' baby when I'm trying to have a serious conversation."

Maka rolled her eyes, taking her hand back. What was he up to? "Well, what do you want to know?" she asked curtly.

"He didn't… hurt you, did he?"

When Maka studied her partner again, she felt a smile form on her lips. There was her partner, always concerned for her well-being no matter the circumstance. _This was why... _"No. It was just a kiss, Soul. Nothing more."

Soul seemed to detect her lie, but he let it pass. "But it was your first, right?"

Maka flinched. "Well, yeah. But it doesn't count if it's one-sided, right?" She tried to smile, but even she knew it looked fake.

Soul didn't even pretend to see it. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, Soul. Like I said, it's just a kiss." True, she had held other expectations for her first kiss, but what was done was done. She couldn't change what happened now. "Anyway, I'm more curious about why he suddenly changed to look like you."

That opening caught Soul by surprised. "Huh? Wasn't that because he was in my soul to begin with?"

"Well, maybe…" Maka pondered the suggestion for the moment. If that was all there was to it, then why had the oni looked like an imp to begin with? No, something had changed. _Oh well, I guess we won't know until Black Star and Tsubaki catches him._

"Aren't you hungry?" Maka asked.

Soul grimaced. "Yeah. Just don't let me off the hook when it comes to that month of chores, okay?"

Maka smiled back. She only came up with that excuse so her partner would feel better while she took care of him. Of course she would let him off the hook.

* * *

It occurred to him that reliving the nightmare in the wee hours of the morning didn't do him much good, but he couldn't help it. No matter how much he tried to think of happier things (Maka had earned a higher score than Ox on the last exam, Liz and Patty had dragged Kidd off on a mission that somehow involved symmetrical architecture), his mind always returned to the Black Room.

The Black Room which had threatened to, and may have already, hurt the most precious thing in his life.

The Black Room which had subsequently and mysteriously disappeared from his subconscious.

The Black Room which he, somehow, had obliterated.

"_It was just a kiss, Soul. Nothing more."_

Soul flipped onto his back once more as he struggled to find a comfortable position. Maka was an idiot. She could have been killed, and it would have been his fault. It was his fault. If he had just waited to play for her on real piano instead of insisting on playing for her in his soul, none of this would have happened.

"_But it doesn't count if it's one-sided, right?"_

Soul finally gave up on sleeping and stood up. Yes, Maka was an idiot, but he knew that she had been hurt as bad as he had been—emotionally, if not physically. Personally, Soul did not see why girls placed such an emphasis on a first kiss, but he knew that Maka, for all her attempts to convince him otherwise, had been quite hurt that hers had not turned out to be romantic in the slightest. It had almost seemed... mechanic, as if it were nothing more than another step in the red imp's ritual. Yes, Soul had recognized the imp's ritual, designed to stress him into submission: making him wonder about Maka's safety, forcing him to play that infernal instrument (the piece he had known from his earlier years, one that he had loathed to practice because of its length), and, of course, forcing him to watch that kiss.

"Kiss" had suddenly become a four-letter word.

Soul wandered slowly out of his room and, quietly as a leaf skittering across the ground, tiptoed to Maka's open doorway. His meister slept with her arms curled around her pillow and her face completely wiped clean of any emotion, any stress. She had worked so hard over the past few days… to help him stretch his aching fingers, the protect him as best she could from her own anxiety, to keep the apartment clean and the laundry folded and the chores done. How could anyone, even a monster, dare to _use_ her? And against him, the useless, twisted soul that he was?

"_Don't worry so much!"_

Soul pressed a clumsy fist against the doorway as he watched his partner sleeping. She always told him not to worry, but how could he not? Even Soul wasn't quite sure how they had escaped from the Black Room: one second, he was vowing to murder the oni in the foulest manner he could think of, and the next, he was falling into an oblivion, the only thing in sight being his dazed and only half-conscious partner. He had just managed to reach Maka and pull her into his chest, ready to protect her from the fall, when they woke up in their own living room.

Had he destroyed the Black Room with his own willpower, or had he just fallen to pieces, his momentary insanity enough to allow the oni to escape, taking the Black Room with him? How would that affect _her_?

"Soul?"

Soul blinked away the thoughts as he noticed Maka's now-open eyes. "Eh?"

"Go back to sleep," Maka said, punctuating her sentence with a yawn. "We have school in the morning."

Soul smirked as Maka promptly turned back to her pillow and fell asleep again. He watched her a bit longer before ambling back to his own bed. A lot had happened, but he had brought her safely home. That thought was enough to let him, finally, sleep.

* * *

Maka hefted two bags of groceries in each arm. Her shopping trip had been a success, partly due to a long search through the bargain racks and partly due to the absence of her partner. Soul almost always tagged along, though he always whined about how long she took and why she needed to buy this or that. Maka had asked him once why he bothered coming if not to completely frazzle her, and he had shrugged, muttered something about not letting his girl walking alone in the street. She had blushed furiously at his word choice, but he followed up the somewhat-considerate statement with a comment about her flat chest, resulting in a quick Maka Chop.

Without having to spend half her time keeping Soul from irritating other customers or hassling the poor cashiers, Maka had actually enjoyed herself. There was something liberating about going on an outing by herself for once, and she could take as long as she wanted comparing the prices of canned goods, chatting with Tsubaki (who she had met in the candy aisle helping Black Star choose between Starbursts and Gummi Bears), or walking back to the apartment without hurrying to keep pace with an impatient Soul. As much as she loved her partner, he could annoy her more than any other single person, except maybe her Papa.

As Maka realized what she was thinking, she blushed; had she actually used the word "love?" Well, she meant as a friend, not… Yeah. Maka's embarrassment disappeared when she remembered the reason Soul had chosen not to come with her. He had gone home with his hands hurting, strained from overuse when they were still recovering. She had warned him not to overdo it in class, but had he listened to her? In any case, she hoped he had found the remaining ibuprofen on the counter.

Maka felt disgusted with herself. How could she be thinking about how much he _annoyed_ her when he was in _pain_?

_I'll make it up to him by making milkshakes later_. _There's a dessert he can eat without hands. I bought some twisty straws, too_, she thought, trying without success to relieve her guilt as she continued walking toward home.

Maka was checking the traffic down a side street when she suddenly felt a cold hand grab her face, covering her mouth and pinching her nose closed. Maka dropped the grocery bags as she tried to elbow the person behind her, but an arm wrapped her torso, pinning both arms to her sides as the second hand dug fingernails painfully into her left arm. Maka screamed as she struggled to pull away, her screams only getting louder when she felt her feet being lifted off the ground. Unfortunately, her voice was muffled, and there was no one else in the vicinity.

Worse yet, Maka could not breathe, and she had just used up all of the oxygen in her lungs. Her chest burned with the airlessness. As her head began to swim giddily, Maka yanked away from her captor.

"Give up," a voice whispered in her ear, and she instantly recognized who it was holding her.

The voice belonged to Soul.

As Maka's vision began to fade, she remembered thinking, _I'll kill this oni._

* * *

Soul knew the instant his meister was in trouble.

Maybe it was some form of her Soul Perception powers, or maybe it was her many visits to his soul (which Tsubaki, of all people, had warned him to limit, though he had now clue as to why). Just maybe it was the bond between meister and weapon, simple as that.

Whatever the reason, Soul knew something had happened, and the moment he felt that unmistakable dread well in his heart, he leaped off the couch where he and Blair had been watching TV. Blair, in feline form (strictly forbidden from Maka to harass/torture/molest Soul until he could defend himself again), glanced at him worriedly as he yanked on a jacket and shoes.

"Where're you going, nya?" she asked.

"Blair, call Black Star and Tsubaki! I think Maka's in trouble!" Soul didn't wait to see if the cat followed orders. He half-ran, half-stumbled down several flights of stairs before leaping into the street and running toward the grocery store where Maka was supposed to be.

Soul didn't have to run far before he spotted the abandoned pile of grocery bags, their contents spilled over the sidewalk. He barely had time to squat down and find a lone hair tie—one of Maka's green ones, which he had bought for her on her birthday—before Black Star and Tsubaki arrived.

"… kidnapped?" Black Star asked. For once, his voice was devoid of boisterous energy and filled instead with a flinty animosity.

"… yeah." Soul answered, his words sticking in his throat. Why, why had he let her go alone when he should have been with her…

"I'm so sorry, Soul!" Tsubaki said, her face red with an emotion Soul couldn't place. "We met her at the store, and I thought I felt your wavelength outside. I thought you were waiting—"

"You felt my wavelength?" Soul interrupted. "That can't be. I was at home."

"But—" Tsubaki stopped herself. Then she gave this short kind of moaning sound, as if she were blaming herself. "I should've known! It's the Black Blood—of course it would have a similar wavelength!"

"The oni took Maka?" Soul asked, rage leaping to life inside him.

Black Star gave him a puzzled look. "Oni?"

Tsubaki was quicker. "Yes! The Black Blood kidnapped Maka."

Soul stood, but before he could move anywhere, Black Star stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Soul could not help glaring at his friend. He knew what Black Star wanted to tell him—Soul knew that without Maka he was useless in a fight—but at this point, he didn't care. It was his job to protect his meister, especially if the one endangering her was himself.

Black Star seemed to get the point, but he warned, "The Black Blood is our target, assigned to us by Shinigami himself. I'm only letting you come because it's Maka we're talking about here. Don't get in my way, got it?"

Soul nodded.

_Maka, wait for me. Don't you dare get yourself hurt._


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello, everybody! Extra thanks to Pink Pagoda and Kamika-Star, who have reviewed multiple times, and to Inkdotblot for the new comment!**

**Also, to MarshmellowDragon: first, love those long reviews, and second, I suppose the story would have to take place after the return from Baba Yaga's Castle, since that's when we last saw the little oni. (In truth, I didn't give much thought as to when, and you'll see that I won't mention any details about Soul's form when he finally goes scythe.) As for Maka's helplessness… well, I'll go ahead and apologize for this chapter, but I promise she'll "kick ***" in the next update!**

**I won't lie, this chapter is the only one that I'm not "sure" about. I guess I'll just have to suck it up, post it, and hope you guys let it slide until I release the next (and my favorite) chapter tomorrow!  
**

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* * *

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Maka woke up to a sharp throbbing on the right side of her head. Her hair hung down around her face, and she wondered if someone didn't _yank_ her right pigtail out. She tried to reach a hand up to touch it, only to realize that she couldn't.

Maka craned her neck around to stare at her hands, bound together and tied to a some sort of rusted valve with her own green-and-white-striped necktie. She was sitting with her legs splayed behind her with her back, somewhat slouched forward to relieve the pain in her circulation-deprived arms. To her mortification, there was no sign of her boots or her top, leaving her in her lacey black bra and her plaid skirt. _Nothing I can do about it, I guess_, she thought practically, before admitting, _but it's sooo embarrassing!_

Maka remembered a movie that she had once watched with Black Star. A man had explained how to escape handcuffs by breaking one of the bones in his wrist. Maka would have tried the method except a) she didn't know which bone it was exactly and b) would that even work if the constraint wasn't a metal cuff? Deciding that injuring herself probably wouldn't help much, Maka settled for investigating her surroundings.

She quickly realized that she had been taken into the sewers under Death City somehow. Maka recognized the fading, groaning sun through the bars of a drain some dozen feet above her. The grate let in enough light to see that this portion of the sewers didn't seem to be in use, as the piping looked dry and, thankfully, relatively sanitary. On the opposite side of the sewer, a large wooden crate sat half in the light and half in the shadow. A small pile of telling refuse sat around this crate: a heap of empty take-out bags, a small collection of empty wallets, a piece of ripped, stained fabric that may have been her shirt (she couldn't tell for sure). Then she noticed the discarded pinstriped suit.

"He's living here?" Maka muttered to herself. She didn't expect an answer, but after a second or two, she heard:

"More or less."

The oni disguised as Soul walked out of the shadow. He had exchanged the suit for a white T-shirt and jeans, though he still wore tuxedo shoes, which made him look all the more awkward in casual clothes. The imp wore, too, a smirk eerily similar to the one that often lit up her partner's face. Yet Maka knew that this thing could not be her partner, and her body betrayed her fear. She shook like a leaf.

"What do you want?" she demanded, trying to sound braver than she felt.

The oni answered the question without the slightest hesitation, as if he had rehearsed the line many times before. "To enjoy the fine things in life, all the things I missed before… and you qualify."

The imp bent down in front of her, cupping her cheek with one of his icy cold hands. He smashed his lips against hers and licked the inside of her upper lip before retreating, leaving a sour taste in her mouth. Maka stared at him, horrified. _He stole my second kiss, too? Damn it, I was saving—_

The oni laughed. The difference between his laugh and Soul's was subtle, something she couldn't quite describe, but unnerving. "You don't have to cry, dear."

Maka realized her eyes had welled up with water, and she quickly bit back further tears. So he was laughing at her tears, huh? _Bastard. _She had to distract him, buy herself some time. "You said before that my safety was your priority." The imp seemed surprised by this opening, leaning slightly away. _Good_, she thought, and pounced on the opportunity. "Why is that?"

"Didn't you get it?" the imp asked, sincerely astonished. "I thought you were smart. Well, let me fill you in on something: as much as he doesn't look it, Soul Eater restrains himself rather well. His desires are strong, but he rarely acts upon them."

The oni stood once more, stepping back as he watched her process this information. "It's funny. I knew Soul wanted you—wanted you with his whole being—but I never expected this!" The oni chuckled again.

Maka stared at him. _Soul...wants me? _The thought was intriguing, but she could not focus on it with the oni watching her with that hungry look in his eyes. She half expected him to eat her soul.

"When I touched you back in the Black Room, I rummaged through your mind to find your ideal mate—and this is how I turn out! So you must want me, too?" the oni taunted, a grin plastered on his face. It looked comically fake compared to the real Soul's grin.

Maka tried to riddle out the oni's words, but when he came close again, kneeling before her, Maka pushed her thoughts back. She had to save herself. "No! I don't want you. I want Soul!"

The oni's eyebrow twitched in irritation. "Idiot. I _am_ Soul, at least a part of him." He leaned his face close again, just inches away, and Maka flinched, wondering if he would kiss her again… or worse. "I'm as hungry, too… and I _act_ upon my desires."

Maka leaned away as far as she could, but it wasn't enough. A long tongue—too long, reminding of the time she had faced Jack the Ripper—snaked out and licked along the length of her cheekbone. Maka squeaked in surprise and fright.

Then a fist collided with the side of the oni's face.


	7. Chapter 7

**A huge thanks to my reviewers: Amaya Kuroda, Novalia1001, RavenAK, Pink Pagoda, BlazerKnight, Kamika-Star, and MarshmellowDragon. You guys put a smile on my face.**

**If you haven't noticed, I've changed the headings to line dividers since BlazerKnight requested the change (and my sister said the same thing). In my defense, the perspectives were changing (anyone who has heard the "consistent POV" speech as many times as I have will sympathize), just in third-person instead of first. Oh, and I corrected the mistake in Chapter 5; thanks for pointing it out!**

**Now, without further ado…**

**

* * *

**The white-haired weapon stared at the creepy Soul-wannabe that Black Star had just sent flying about twenty feet through the air. Seriously… that was cool.

Black Star only noticing that Maka was half-naked, oh, thirty seconds later and then childishly hiding his eyes and turning red as a chili pepper… well, that wasn't cool in the slightest. Though, after seeing how far Black launched his doppelganger, Soul was somewhat relieved that he wouldn't have to beat up his best friend later for staring at his equally red-faced meister.

Black Star stood with chain scythe ready as Soul ran toward his tech and slid to the ground beside her. Ignoring Maka's embarrassment, Soul quickly untied her and, cupping her wrists in his hands, began to rub circulation back into her extremities. Maka cringed for a moment, sore from sitting still for so long. Soul used his sleeve to wipe her cheek clean, cringing a bit himself when he realized that _that_ was his fault, too.

"You're okay?" he asked, staring straight into her vivid green eyes. She nodded, and he wrapped both arms around her, yanking her close. She was tired; her head slumped against his shoulder. Still, he knew she would fight with him, and he whispered his plan into her ear….

The imp had picked himself up from the ground. The snicker started low and quickly grew louder. Soul hoped that his own laugh sounded less… insane. "Oi, Soul Eater! You really going to rely on friends' pity to defeat a little piece of your own soul? So _cool_ of you!"

"Shut up!" Black Star yelled, lunging forward with his trusty chain scythe posed to launch.

"Wait." Soul held out one arm, the other still wrapped protectively around Maka.

Black Star glared at him. "I thought I told you not to get in my way."

Soul stared levelly back. "He's taunting you, too, you moron."

Black Star's eyebrow twitched, and he looked back at the oni. Soul looked back as well, not at all surprised when his look-alike began to exude a strange black aura and wave his freakishly long tongue in the air. Black Star chuckled nervously. "Dude, you got issues."

"Black Star!" Tsubaki's shrill voice scolded.

"Agreed," Soul answered, stretching the fingers in his extended arm. "I know I said I'd keep out of your way, Black Star, but I think I got this."

Black Star stepped backward with a theatrical shrug. "Fine, but you owe me pizza after the next basketball game."

Soul nodded absently, taking his arm from around Maka and gripping her hand in his. "Ready?" Beside him, Maka nodded, determined. She met Soul's eyes for a moment, and they exchanged an excited look—the same look they shared whenever they went hunting.

"Heh." The imp swayed where he stood. "Aren't you coming for me?"

Then everything seemed to turn silent, and the only thing that Soul heard was his own breath. _In. Out. In. Out. In._

_OUT!_

For the first time in a week, Soul felt every nerve in his hand as his fingers stretched out and warmed with the sensation of rushing blood in his veins. Then his arm curved as it transformed into red-and-black metal, and Soul grinned as he took the form a scythe.

Maka caught him just like she always did, twirling him around like a baton before latching onto the pole with a strong grip. Never mind that she had just been kidnapped and terrified. Never mind that she did not have shoes or a shirt. Maka was in her element now, her eyes alight and zeroed in on her prey.

Soul almost felt sorry for the little bastard oni.

Maka struck like a snake, no mercy in her movements. She did not attack the oni directly. Instead, she used Soul to pole-vault right over the oni's head so that she could swing the scythe at the monster from behind. Soul shivered as he cleaved through the weird black aura. The smoke seemed to cling to him, freezing him as it blocked his vision. "Maka, watch out!"

Maka leaped backward, yanking Soul out of the aura, just as the oni turned and struck out with a foot. Maka managed to lift Soul in time to block the kick with the shaft of the scythe, and then she hooked the scythe under the foot and lifted. The unexpected motion caused the oni to tumble backward. Maka slammed the scythe down, but this time the oni moved fast enough to roll out of the way and onto his feet. Inside the scythe, Soul rubbed his arm that had just jarred against concrete.

Not giving the pair any time to recover, the oni charged toward the technician, and Soul shouted, "Right!" Maka obeyed, jumping out of the oni's way and preparing to swing the scythe again, but she misjudged the length of the oni's arm. It seemed like slow motion to Soul, who had no chance to stop it. Soul stared as the oni's arm stretched almost a foot longer than usual. The oni's hand should have resembled Soul's, but the fingernails seemed dangerously sharp. Soul could not help wincing as that hand dug into Maka's side, yanking her backward as the oni's charge ended with a swift turn, effectively pulling Maka against him and, as her body collided with his, knocking the wind out of her.

The oni grabbed both of Maka's forearms as he leaned close to her face. "Surrender?"

She did not answer. She looked up at the scythe still gripped in her right hand, and she slammed the end of the pole as hard as she could on the oni's foot. Then she tossed the scythe in the air, and Soul transformed just in time to land in a crouch behind the oni.

The oni had not released Maka despite the sudden jab, but he had loosened his grip enough that Maka could slide down, kneeling so that the only parts of her touching the oni were her forearms. "Now!" she shouted.

Soul's arm, elbow-down, transformed back into a scythe as he impaled the imp from behind. For a second, the oni turned back, taunting Soul with a smirk, and Soul wondered if he had really managed to kill him. Then the body dissipated, disappearing like the body of a prekishin and revealing a tiny, hovering black soul.

The weapon completely ignored the little orb. Transforming his arm back to normal, he caught Maka's shoulders as she fell backward and lowered her onto the pavement. She was struggling to catch her breath, but she grinned up at him and gave him a thumbs-up.

He smirked as he returned the gesture.

Then Black Star had to ruin the moment: "That was how you guys 'got' it? How lame. Being the big person that I am, I could have dealt with that amateur without getting my god-like body injured." Black Star glanced down at Maka, seeing if his goading had worked.

She stuck out her tongue at him. "Shut up, Black Star."

Soul knocked his fist against Black Star's before ever so gently slamming the same fist against the top of Black Star's pointy blue head. "Didn't I warn you not to mess with my tech?"

After quickly eating the black soul (which tasted sour and not at all pleasant),Soul proceeded to distract Black Star by asking when the next basketball game would be, since he was buying after all. Soul only half-paid attention when Black Star eagerly jumped on the subject, wondering aloud if he could get Kilik or Harvar to join the game. Soul prodded Black Star to walk back the way they had come so that Tsubaki could check on Maka. While Black Star chattered on about how awesome and athletic he was, Soul glanced back to see that Tsubaki had wrapped Maka in an extra jacket that the ever-considerate weapon had brought along, and then the two girls were hugging. Soul felt the glow of relief in his chest at seeing his meister safe, and then he turned away to talk with Black Star again.

Little did he know that the adventure wasn't over yet.

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**Author's Note: Yes, the fist belong to Black Star. *smiles innocently* …Do you really think that Soul could outrun the fastest student in Shibusen? Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! One more chapter to go!**


	8. Chapter 8

**For the last time, one HUGE round of applause for the reviewers, who have been supporting me over the past… *checks calendar* wow, has it really only been a week? Thank you for the support, everyone!**

**Please enjoy the last chapter!  
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**"Comfy?" Soul asked for the hundredth time. Maka nodded from within her cocoon of blankets, all forced upon her by Soul or Blair, who had fled the apartment as soon as she ascertained that Maka was completely immobilized with every afghan and quilt in the entire apartment. Blair had done well with this; Maka had spent the majority of the past half-hour just trying to wriggle her hands free from the outrageous number of layers.

Soul heard her put-upon sigh as he sat down beside her, two cups of cocoa in his hands. He smirked. Maka had to smile back; it was nice to see Soul's _real_ smile again.

Soul handed her the mug with extra marshmallows, which she accepted with a murmured thanks, before he leaned against the back of the couch and propped his legs upon the coffee table. He wore only his pajama pants (these ones a mellow orange) and a pair of baby blue socks. Maka wondered how he wasn't freezing, and then she remembered the chill of the counterfeit Soul's fingers on her chin. No, the real Soul always had warm hands, and Maka's smile widened at the realization.

"Hey, Soul," she asked between sips of cocoa, "how are your hands doing?"

Soul rolled his eyes before turning his head toward the television even though the set had been turned off. "I transformed, and I'm holding a cup of hot liquid over my lap. Doesn't that prove I'm cured?" Maka giggled.

"And you didn't get hurt in the fight," Maka stated, quite pleased at how their maneuver had worked earlier. She had to admit, she had been surprised when Soul suggested that he would finish the imp himself. Still, the way things had worked out, they may have discovered a great trick for catching any opponent off-guard.

The corners of Soul's lips pulled down as he drank his cocoa, and Maka looked at her partner questioningly. He answered her look with a scowl. "Now don't you dare start worrying about me, Maka. Worry about yourself for once, 'kay?"

"I'm fine. A good stretch was all I needed," Maka said dismissively.

"That's not what I meant," Soul muttered, looking away again. "Don't be an idiot."

Slightly annoyed by his response, Maka asked, "What did you mean then?"

Soul gave her a look that very clearly said I'd-rather-not-talk-about-this-right-now. She returned it with an I'm-not-letting-you-get-away-without-an-answer look. Soul sighed. It was truly amazing how much they could communicate without saying a word.

Reluctance plain on his face, Soul started, "Don't you have a clue? What would have happened if I hadn't reached you in time?"

"But Black Star reached me before you did…" Maka mumbled. Soul flinched.

"Can you not remind me of that, please!"

"Sorry."

A minute passed as the pair finished their cocoa and situated the mugs on the coffee table. Soul's face slowly drained of the redness that had flared up at her suggestion. Maka almost smiled as she leaned back—was the cool guy actually embarrassed?—but then she noticed that Soul's shoulders had stiffened. Sitting back up immediately, Maka placed a hand on Soul's arm as the weapon leaned his elbows forward on his legs, running his hands through his hair.

It seemed as if his next words would shatter him. Maka tried to tell him that he didn't have to say, but he interrupted her with his voice too loud for the empty room:

"Maka, what the hell was that thing going to do to you?"

Maka froze. For an instant, she felt helpless again, as if she were struggling to move and couldn't. Then she remembered that long tongue snaking up her jaw line, and those hungry eyes… Her cheeks burned with the implications, and only then did she shake away the thought.

Maka regained composure a moment too late, however. Soul stared at her with tormented eyes for a long second before burying his face in his hands.

* * *

Soul's heart clenched when he saw Maka's face turn red. It was a damn shame he hadn't drawn out that oni's death a bit longer….

Soul rubbed his eyes against the heels of his hands. That monster had lived inside him. He had failed as a weapon simply by allowing his meister into the Black Room, and here the imp had almost—

"I have a theory." Soul looked up, startled. Maka had begun to wriggle out from underneath her many layers of blankets.

"Very Maka-like," Soul managed to comment as he pulled a couple of quilts away and dumped them on the floor.

Soul waited as the meister struggled to put her words in order. The line of her mouth squirmed as if she couldn't decide what face to make. "Well, you know the imp wanted… well, me." Soul growled in his throat, but Maka ignored him. "The imp picked up on some of your, um, desires, I think. The reason for that is… he was a part of you, Soul, and… you love me."

All blood drained from his face as he tried to comprehend what his meister had just told him.

Only Maka could say that with a straight face.

Only he would believe her. But he did, because it was true.

* * *

_Great. You blew it. _Maka looked down, her hands wringing. What had she been thinking, explaining it like that? He was definitely going to think she was crazy.

But… now she couldn't go back. It felt as thought chains bound her to the words she had just spoken. She needed to finish this.

"And the reason he decided to look like you…" Soul's bright crimson eyes looked straight into hers, and she found a hard time finding her voice again. "I've been thinking about it, and I think it's because… I love you, too."

She expected him tell her that she was talking crazy. After all, she wasn't making any sense. It all sounded quite logical in her head, but aloud, Maka had to admit that it sounded like gibberish. She looked down, blushing furiously, afraid to look up again.

Silence followed. Either Soul was actually taking her seriously, or he was thinking of a polite way to tell her that he thought she had hit her head. She decided to chance a peek, but when she looked up, she was startled to find his face suddenly mere centimeters from her own. She gasped, but Soul did not move in the slightest.

His eyes met hers with such absolutely _devotion_ that it would have been impossible to doubt his intent. Of course he took her seriously, and… was she right after all?

For what seemed like eternity, Maka gazed into those crimson eyes so close to hers and waited for a brushing of lips. It seemed ridiculous that she had already lost her first (and second and, if that tongue thing counted, third) kiss over the past week, but this was so different from those experiences…. Instead of horror, Maka felt only a warm calmness in her heart, a longing that she had pushed to the back of her mind for too long. She waited, lips slightly parted, with her body completely and utterly relaxed. She _wanted_ this.

Then Soul suddenly groaned and yanked himself away.

Maka stared at him, not quite sure what had happened. A wave of rejection washed over her—cold and instinctive and strong. Wasn't he going to kiss her? Didn't he—

"What the hell am I doing?" Soul muttered, turning away to glare at the floor. "I'm so sorry, Maka."

"It's okay," Maka managed to choke out, her throat suddenly lodged with heartache. She quickly brushed a tear from her eye. "Ugh. I knew you wouldn't…"

Soul's face crumpled. "Of course I wouldn't."

Maka bowed her head, giving up as the tears spilled onto her cheeks and her heart constricted painfully. _He never liked me... at all? _The news was hard to bear.

"Do you think I'm going to scar you for life?"

Maka blinked in surprise, swiveling her neck around to stare at her partner. "Huh?!"

Soul lifted his face again, and suddenly he grabbed both of her shoulders, finger flexing as if he wanted to shake her but not hurt her. He didn't even seem to notice her tears. "Maka… that oni—the one you yourself said was a part of me—tried to rape you today. Rape." The word sounded harsh on his tongue, as if it didn't belong there. "And I barely made it there on time. I failed you as a weapon, and I should be groveling at your feet, begging for forgiveness, and definitely not making you relive bad memories." Soul took a deep breath before continuing. "Maka, I swear I'll never let this happen again. Please believe me, I'd never hurt you like that."

Maka stared blankly at the weapon gripping both of her shoulders and pleading for her forgiveness. He waited patiently as she played catch-up in her mind, processing all he had told her.

Then she came to a conclusion, and she gave a little smile. "So… you do love me?"

Soul chuckled, relaxing his grip and pulling away as he shook his head in utter amazement. "Maka, you can be such an idiot sometimes."

Maka felt her smile burst into a grin, but she continued regardless: "No, I think you're the real idiot, Soul."

The grin must have worked against her because instead of getting worked up, Soul merely smiled back as he asked, "And why's that?"

"That oni was a part of you, Soul, but it was a part you always protected me from." As Maka explained, she remembered that the demon had mentioned that Soul restrained himself well. As she pieced together what the demon had come to represent, and all of the measures Soul had taken to protect her from his own feelings, Maka could only agree. "That imp could never be the real you, so don't worry so much. Anyway, there's a big difference here."

Curious, Soul leaned closer again, and Maka smiled teasingly as she whispered:

"_This_ kiss… is totally voluntary."

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**Author's Note: ... yay! *squishes Soul and Maka in big hug*  
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**Wow, it feels great to finish a fun story like this. I hope you loved the ending because **_**truly**_**, you readers made the experience for me! I had a blast writing this, especially this last chapter full of fluffy goodness! **

**Just to remind you all, I'll be starting a series of one-shots pretty soon, though I'm sorry to say that the updates will definitely slow down a bit. (What do you expect?) The title will be "The Many Faces of Shibusen," so watch out for it! **

**Once more: thank you, everybody!!**

**Yours,**

**Writer of Whispers**


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